


Desire

by CaptainCorale



Series: But Loving Him Was Red [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Act 2, Anal Sex, Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Flashbacks, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:05:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCorale/pseuds/CaptainCorale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their night together, Fenris has trouble concentrating around Hawke. His mind knows he should keep his distance from the man, but his body has another opinion entirely. (purple, mage, friendly romance).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desire

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place not long after A Bitter Pill, but before the end of Act 2. I know that if you choose a mage!Hawke Bethany is supposed to die in the beginning, but Carver is a total tool so I switched it for my series. I just thought it might be interesting to see how Fenris coped with this change in his sexuality/libido after being with Hawke. He says in-game he's never wanted anyone before Hawke, and then later tells him he remembers his touch as though it were yesterday even though it's three years later. So, I figured Fenris must be pretty frisky for Hawke underneath all that cold indifference. And I just wanted to write something naughty. ;-D Apologies for my UK spelling. I think I made the transition from present - flashback obvious enough. But please let me know if it's a disaster.
> 
> If you enjoyed my work, please consider [ buying me a coffee ](http://https://ko-fi.com/cptncorale/) so I can sit and write in coffee shops and be super powered with caffeine!

It hadn't yet been three weeks since and already the majority of their un-merry band seemed to know that something had come to pass between Hawke and himself. Being in the middle of sly, leering glances from Isabela and jealous glares from Anders left Fenris feeling more conspicuous than ever before. He was embarrassed they knew his personal business, yes, but more than that, he worried for Hawke who obviously was not acting his normal, cheeky self. The Maker only knew what they were saying to him when Fenris wasn't around.

It was the first time he and Hawke had met since their night together and Fenris felt guilt fester low in his gut when he saw the deep shadows under the mage's eyes. Although Hawke had tried to visit him several times since, Fenris had refused to see him. He had made his choice and knew it was for the best that Hawke hated him. He calmed himself by repeating in his mind that although Hawke might feel rejected now, he could do much better than couple with a broken, emotionally husked out slave who had so little to give, in every regard. He would thank him later when he married some untarnished, human woman; she would be pretty and happy. A rose without thorns, Fenris imagined. Although the thought of it alone left a sour taste lingering in his mouth.

How the party found out, Fenris didn't know. But somehow he was certain that Hawke hadn't gossiped about the details of their encounter nor of Fenris's frankly humiliating breakdown in the aftermath of it. He suspected that neither of them were as subtle as they thought they'd been in their flirtation with (and subsequent avoidance of) each other, but that was neither here nor there by this point. _Let tongues wag_ , he thought. _Hawke and I know the truth._

Although the elf could readily tell his mind it had been a logical, smart decision to leave Hawke, his body didn't want to hear it. A long drawn out tension between them had finally come to a head, and it had changed their friendship irrevocably. While Fenris had expected their night together would have broken the fever of his desire for Hawke, apparently it had not only done nothing to quench his thirst for the man, but had served only to intensify the ferocity of his attraction. Now that he knew, he _finally_ understood the sharing of pleasure with someone you cared for and respected, he could think of little else. Because of _Danarius_ he'd spent all of his life dreading the touch of another, never once realising that it could feel so...magical (for an ironic lack of a better word). He very briefly considered visiting The Blooming Rose to rid this lustfulness from his system, but the thought both repulsed and depressed him. It was _Hawke_ he craved. It was _Hawke_ he lov-.

_No._

But busybody comments from the group were definitely not helping the air between them feel any less thick. Their conversation was stilted, and eye-contact staunchly avoided. Standing beside Hawke left Fenris's skin aching and his breath heavy. He wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around the man and “ _climb him like a tree_ ” as Isabela would have put it.

_Weak, weak, weak._

The elf tried hard to put the memory of their coupling behind him, but try as he might he could not forget the hot, wet path of Hawke's mouth on his flesh, or the way he'd sighed beneath gentle caresses, sated in the afterglow. He flushed when he remembered how his own body responded so wantonly beneath the mage and felt dazed when his thoughts travelled to the way Hawke's perfect, muscular back felt under his hands. The images plagued him with growing heat, and Fenris, who had never _wanted_ like this before, was having considerable trouble concentrating. Something had awakened in him, and it wasn't going to rest again anytime soon. He cleared his throat to distract himself suddenly.

“What did you do to the elf, Chuckles,” quipped Varric. "He's even broodier than normal today. I think it's a new record in Thedas.”

“Keep it to yourself,” Fenris growled lowly at him. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

He sneaked a quick glance at Hawke, who said nothing. The guilt reformed itself in his stomach anew.

"Wow,” laughed Varric. "Okay, okay.”

Fenris had fully planned on staying out of Hawke's way for a little while longer to save them both discomfort, but also selfishly to save himself from any added embarrassment. He already felt like a fool, he didn't want the awkwardness between them to fuel the fire any further. In fact, he would've refused to accompany the group today if it weren't for Aveline being on duty. With no other armoured, sword-wielder to face the brunt of enemy attacks Fenris couldn't possibly have refused and left Hawke unprotected in the Deep Roads.

 _Yet again, a snivelling, simpering bodyguard to a mage. You're desperate for his attention. You sick creature,_ he admonished himself.

“Fenris!” A shout snapped him out of his thoughts, a moment too late it seemed as a Darkspawn blade was barely an inch from his nose

He jumped backwards as a clean, freezing bolt of ice shot past him and pierced the creature high to the cavern wall like a stuck pig. It writhed, shrieking for a moment before it fell unconscious and bled out. The black ooze sheathed the icicle slowly, like tar and dripped to the ground with a _hiss_ as it burned.

“Are you hurt,” asked Hawke, and Fenris shook his head.

“I'm fine, I'm sorry. I should have seen that coming first.”

_No. Hawke is nothing like Danarius. If you should push anything out of your mind, it should be that appalling little comparison._

The Lyrium markings began to dull down and he ruffled his hair roughly to ground himself. His face reddened starkly when he turned and saw Hawke still looking at him, as if he knew what had been going through his mind. Fenris looked away sharply. _Coward._

“Let's just focus on finding these Dwarven lads,” Hawke said sternly. “I really don't want to be down here any longer than we have to be.”

“Hawke too? It's like the Broody Blight today,” Varric mumbled.

“It just smells worse than week-old undies down here,” Hawke retorted.

“Been there,” Isabela chorused.

“Skip the details, please,” groaned Fenris.

“Oh, if you insist, then,” she sighed.

They walked on, loose attempts at conversation dwindling quickly and their usual dry banter more forced than anything else. It wasn't easy for him to walk casually beside the man who not even three weeks previously had the elf trembling and moaning his name like a very enthusiastic prostitute looking to be employee of the month. It was an intimate vulnerability he hadn't shared with anyone before, and aloofly pretending it hadn't happened was difficult to say the least.

Fenris only had to catch a glimpse of those clever, amber eyes looking his way to remember how intensely Hawke had focussed on his pleasure, giving and _giving_ before _finally_ sliding inside of him.

“ _Maker, I've wanted this for so long,” gasped Hawke. “It doesn't hurt, does it?”_

The feel of Hawke against him, _in_ him was – Fenris had no words, he had never felt such desire in his life. They laughed as they tried to find their rhythm, breathing in the musk of sweat and heat between them. Then Hawke had hauled them up, repositioned them and Fenris was on top, undulating in the mage's lap, full and surrounded by him. He was completely in control of his own pleasure and what he took from him.

“ _Hawke, there. Oh, there, oh...please.”_

He looped his arms around Hawke's shoulders, his eyes closing and mouth going slack. Everything felt so _good._ The slick sounds of their joining and moaning filled the room. The rhythm went slow and dirty as they shared lazy, open mouthed kisses. Hawke had one hand leisurely fisting his leaking cock, the other slid to the small of his back and down again to cup his rear.

“ _You're beautiful...”_

“Fenris!”

He almost tripped as Varric's voice cut through his colourful reminiscing like a smack to the head. He knocked his toe on a rock, and he swore.

“What,” he demanded, irrationally angry.

“Oh, I don't know,” the dwarf said, mocking a casual tone. “I was just saying to watch out for that giant, ridiculous, spiky trap. But hey – you do you, Elf.”

Fenris turned, his breath a little heavy. “I...saw it,” he said, convincing nobody.

“Sure you did.”

_Stop it, you fool. If you can't pay attention to your surroundings you'll get yourself killed. Or worse, you'll humiliate yourself._

He exhaled, blowing out his cheeks and chewed on an already worried fingernail.

After another batch of Darkspawn ambushed them and were quickly dispatched. They halted to wait while Isabela dug her blade out of a bleeding corpse. “Blimey, these things are _juicy_ , aren't they,” she called.

“Be careful. Watch the blood,” Fenris cautioned. He remembered what had happened to Bethany down in this crypt. They weren't far now from where they'd laid her to rest. She'd been a bright, young woman, and Fenris said a small prayer to himself for her soul. She'd been a mage, but she had been strong, like Hawke. From the looks of it, her death was on his mind too. Hawke was staring into the distance, quiet and still, his mouth twisted. Of course, Fenris had been selfish in his assumption that Hawke wasn't talkative purely because of the uncomfortable atmosphere between them. He longed to offer a word of support to the mage in some way, but he knew that any vague mumblings he had to offer would be insufficient.

“Something else _juicy_ caught your attention, has it,” Isabela asked silkily, sliding up beside him, her expression all cat who got the cream. She gave an exaggerated wink in Hawke's direction. Fenris rolled his eyes at her.

“Not this again,” he growled at her. “You're delusional. You shouldn't drink before noon, you know.”

She laughed at him.”You're one to talk.”

“I'll give you that,” he said lowly. “It's after noon somewhere, isn't that what you say?”

“Exactly so, Pretty-Eyes.”

He left her to clean her blades. Steeling himself like a smitten adolescent he went to Hawke's side and tentatively asked, “Hawke. Uh. Do you wish to go...visit her grave while we're down here?”

The mage look startled for a moment. Fenris feared he'd made a terrible mistake by approaching him. Maybe he shouldn't have said that so abruptly, he thought.

“I'd like that,” the mage said finally in a surprised tone. “If we have the time to spare.” Fenris nodded, relieved. “How did you kno-” Hawke continued, turning to him before he stopped. His eyes darted to the band of red ribbon tied around Fenris's wrist, then to the Hawke family crest pinned on his hip. He looked down into his eyes, and the depth of meaning in Hawke's had him feeling dizzy for the briefest of moments. Fenris felt his face grow hot. It was a little ostentatious perhaps. Presumptuous, even. Truly, he wasn't certain himself what he meant by wearing the tokens, he'd simply wanted to. It meant _something_ to him. Something dear.

“Fenris,” Hawke said, his voice taut with emotion.

“We should move on,” Fenris said gruffly, panicked. They way he felt now, he wasn't sure he would be able to brush off Hawke's persistent questions. He looked away from the man with great reluctance.

“Right. Yes, of course, I – sorry,” Hawke said.

 _It's for the best_ , he reminded himself as Hawke walked past him, leading the team onwards.

“ _Fenris. Fenris, I love you.” A s_ leepy and satisfied mumble. A hand trailed down his spine, and soft kisses peppered his neck. Fenris smiled and turned in Hawke's strong arms to kiss his lips, gentle and sweet.

“ _I am yours.”_

_It's for the best._

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on tumblr. Come [ say hi on there too! ](http://captaincorale.tumblr.com) :-)
> 
> If you enjoyed my work, please consider [ buying me a coffee ](http://https://ko-fi.com/cptncorale/) so I can sit and write in coffee shops and be super powered with caffeine!


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